by Donna Every
Daniel’s door opened after a brief knock and Luke Wellington walked in.
“Well, Mr. Tennant, you’ve come through the surgery remarkably well. I know you may not feel like that right now but, although you’ve lost the hearing in your right ear, the good news is there’s no facial paralysis. Your left ear will begin to compensate for the hearing loss and as long as you turn that side to people when they speak, you’ll be fine.”
“Looks like you did a great job, Mr. Wellington. Thank you.”
“You can thank me when we’ve taken care of the rest of the tumor and you’re back on your feet. You’ll find that you’re going to have to learn how find your balance again and regain your strength. The hospital has a number of physiotherapists on staff who can help you but that won’t be until after you complete your radiotherapy because you probably won’t be up to physiotherapy when you’re doing that.”
“How long do I have to stay here?” asked Daniel. His head still hurt, he felt dizzy and he couldn’t even get himself to the bathroom because he was so unstable on his legs. Bob and Margaret had insisted that he come and stay with them until he was well enough to be on his own.
“I’d like to keep you here for a week, make sure you’re doing OK before we let you go home. You’re to start radiotherapy once the swelling goes down. It will be five days a week for about five or six weeks. As I told you before, you may experience some side effects like nausea, dizziness, that type of thing but we’ll treat you with drugs to minimize the effects. You will need someone to drive you to therapy and to keep an eye on you at home. Once you’ve finished those treatments you can start the physiotherapy which could take up to two months.”
Great! For someone who hated to take medicine and to see doctors, he was about to see more of them in the next few months than he had in his entire his life. At least he had a life and for that he should really be grateful.
A week later
Daniel lay immobile while radio waves were applied to his head to remove the rest of the tumor. The actual procedure was painless but his whole face and head were covered by a mask made of some kind of plastic which had been molded to fit the shape of his face before he left the hospital. It felt like a vice and was so tight he thought it would crush the rest of his brain. It made him feel claustrophobic and he couldn’t wait for the few minutes of radiation to finish before he could get it off. He could relate to the Phantom of the Opera. He had nothing to do but think as he lay there. He couldn’t imagine how he was going to endure this for the next six weeks. Wellington had also warned him that he might feel nauseous from the treatments. God, he hoped not. Moving his head around was still agonizing, he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like if he was throwing up as well. Was he really supposed to be learning something from this? No answers were forthcoming, but then again, he didn’t expect any. He realized that he had little control over what fate threw at him, but it was up to him how he responded. Right there and then he made a vow that this would not defeat him.
Several hours later
Daniel tried to remember the vow he had made in the radiation room, as he leaned over the toilet in his bathroom at Margaret’s house and heaved the contents of his stomach up. The violent movements made pain explode in his head and drained him of what little energy he had. He washed his mouth and staggered back to his bed, leaning heavily on the walker that he had bought to help him about in these early days.
“Daniel, are you alright?” asked Margaret knocking softly on the door. When he didn’t answer she pushed open the door and repeated the question louder. She kept forgetting that he only had hearing in one ear now and he was still adjusting to that.
“No, I’m not alright. I feel sick and weak and I don’t know how the hell I’m going to get through these next few weeks.”
“The hospital gave me some medicine to help with the nausea. I’ll get it for you now. Would you like some broth?”
Daniel groaned at the thought of food. He had little appetite and his mouth tasted metallic anyway.
“That’s the last thing I want Margaret. I’ll just rest a bit.” He hoped she would leave. He appreciated all that Margaret was doing for him but, right now, he just wanted to be left alone.
Two weeks later
Daniel ran a comb gently through his hair as he prepared for yet another session of therapy. He stared in horror at the comb which was full of hair and the vanity which was littered with even more strands. He closed his eyes in despair. As if the tiredness and nausea weren’t bad enough, his hair was now falling out. He’d read about it but still wasn’t prepared for the reality of it. He’d have to ask Bob or Margaret to shave the rest off since he was definitely not going to the salon that he frequented for that. He cleaned up the hair and went to find Margaret.
“Marg, my hair is falling out. I’m going need you or Bob to cut the rest of it short for me. I’m sorry to be such a burden on you two. God, I’m so sick of being sick! Death is beginning to look a whole lot better than this.”
“Daniel Tennant, don’t let me hear you talking like that. You’re not a burden. You have a lot to be thankful for and this won’t last forever. You’ll get through it. You have a lot of people who are praying for you and who care for you. Angela called again. She wants to see you and so do the folks from the office. I can’t keep putting everyone off.”
“I really don’t feel like seeing anyone right now, Margaret, especially now that my hair is falling out. I look sick. Tell Angela I’ll call her when I’m feeling better and let the folks know that I appreciate their cards and good wishes. I don’t know Marg, I just don’t have the energy or inclination to see anyone and answer questions about how I feel. I just feel empty. My hair falling out is just the last straw. I can’t imagine it can get any worse than this.”
“Maybe you should see a therapist,” suggested Margaret.
“Margaret if I have to see anyone else in the medical profession, that would definitely make me lose it. Don’t worry about me. As you said, I’ll get through this. I’ve got through a lot of things in my life. Granted this is the worst, but I’ve had a lot of preparation.”
Later that evening
“Daniel,” said Margaret knocking softly at his bedroom door. Daniel was lying in bed in the dark. He’d come back from therapy several hours ago and had just crawled into bed after another bout of vomiting.
“What is it Margaret?” His voice was weak and he sounded so low that she hated to add to his depression with the news she just got.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Daniel,” she said softly. “Your father’s wife just called. I’m afraid that he lost the battle with the cancer today, Daniel. I’m so sorry.”
Daniel froze. Not now! He already felt sick and weak and now this! His father was dead. He remembered how sick he had looked the day he came to see him in his office when he asked for his forgiveness and he hadn’t given it. Now he was gone and he would never see him again, never have the chance to say that he forgave him. Regret jack-hammered a path through his heart leaving in its wake a gaping chasm that he felt nothing could ever fill. He remembered telling Margaret caustically that he hoped he lived to regret it. Well he had and he never imagined that it would hurt so bad.
Finally he said weakly: “I can’t take anything else Marg. I feel like I’m drowning. I said earlier that things couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong.”
One month later
The orderly pushed Daniel’s chair through doors that were labeled Physiotherapy Department. He’d insisted that Margaret leave him at the hospital and come back later. This was to be first therapy session and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Having gone through six weeks of radiotherapy he’d had enough of hospitals, doctors and therapists. He just wanted to get well! At least his last MRI had showed no sign of the remaining tumor but his head still hurt sometimes and he still hadn’t fully regained his balance or strength. He’d also lost weight and his hair had not grown back as yet, so he was wearing
a cap which made him feel unlike himself. He had never imagined getting back to normal would take this long or be this hard. His father’s death had set him back more than he cared to admit but he was determined to put all that behind him and get on with life.
Daniel looked around the large room and saw patients on all kinds of equipment. Some were exercising their arms and legs using weight machines, some were struggling to walk using parallel bars to hold them up and the more advanced ones were on treadmills. He felt conspicuous and self conscious. He was used to people staring at him but, in the past, that had usually been in admiration, which he acknowledged without conceit. Now he felt that they were wondering why he had this stupid cap on his head and why he looked so sick. He just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible.
“Miss Taylor,” said the orderly. A woman in a long white coat and black jeans turned around. Daniel’s eyes drank her in like a man deprived of water for a long time. This was the first spark of life he felt since his surgery. Her skin, the color of café-au-lait was flawless, her hazel eyes were beautiful and even with her long, light brown hair pulled back in a simple pony tail and very little make up on, she was gorgeous. She reminded him of Vanessa Williams when she became the first Black Miss America in the ‘80’s. He felt a stirring in his body for the first time in weeks and almost smiled in relief to know that some things were still working.
“This is Daniel Tennant,” continued the orderly.
“Thanks Pete,” she said with a smile, walking over to them.
“Hi, I’m Kathryn Taylor,” she introduced herself, extending her hand, “but most people call me KT. I’ll be your physiotherapist.” She didn’t even seem to notice the cap, but then again he supposed she was used to things like that in her line of work.
Her handshake was surprisingly firm considering how soft her hand felt in Daniel’s. He wanted to keep holding it. He quickly checked her left hand for a ring and was happy to see none.
Kathryn Tennant sounds even better and you wouldn’t even have to change your initials, thought Daniel. Where did that come from? He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. The drugs must be affecting my thinking!’
“Hi, KT,” he said sounding surprisingly normal in spite of the thoughts going around in his head. “Isn’t it too soon to be starting therapy? My head still hurts like the very devil and I feel dizzy and weak.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to feel like that for a little while, Mr. Tennant, so the sooner we get started the better.”
“Please call me Daniel,” he interjected.
“Daniel then. We’ll take it easy today. I’ll just let you do a few exercises to assess your strength and find out which areas need the most work. You’ll probably feel tired very quickly but that’s normal. Don’t try to overdo it; we’ve got about two months to get you back to your old self.”
Daniel suddenly didn’t mind if it took him two years to get back to his old self if it meant seeing her every week. He began to wonder if they took out something else from his brain apart from the tumor. What was he thinking? He didn’t normally see the same woman for two months, far less two years!
Half an hour later Daniel felt that he never wanted to see Miss Kathryn Taylor again in his life! His head throbbed, his arms and legs felt weak and wobbly and sweat poured off his body.
“I wouldn’t mind feeling this sweaty and weak if it was after a couple of hours of passion, but this is ridiculous!” Daniel joked trying to cover up how worried he was. Would he ever feel well again?
KT didn’t crack a smile at his attempted humor. Instead she said: “Please keep your offensive comments to yourself, Mr. Tennant and let’s focus on getting you on your feet.”
Daniel frowned feeling somewhat chastened. Offensive comments? This was 2008 for heaven’s sake not the Victorian era! Was she for real?
“My apologies,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend you. That’s just my way of trying to deal with how weak I feel. I’m wondering if I’ll ever get back to normal.”
Her face immediately softened in understanding and she squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. Her touch was strangely comforting to Daniel. In spite of his obvious weight loss, his shoulder felt strong and very masculine to her.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Recovery from brain surgery takes time so you need to be patient with yourself. Anyway, that’s enough for today. I’ll get one of the orderlies to take you back downstairs.”
She offered him her shoulder to lean on to get back into his wheelchair.
“I don’t want to make you sweaty,” he protested. At least not in this way, he added in his mind. He was smart enough not to say that one out loud.
“That’s okay, I’m used to it.” But she wasn’t used to the awareness she felt when he leaned on her. That was strange. She’d had many male patients but she’d never felt this immediate attraction to any of them. What was so different about this Daniel Tennant?
She was tall enough, probably about 5’7”, to make leaning on her easy. He wasn’t used to leaning on anyone, literally or figuratively, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable or awkward feeling. On the contrary it felt good.
“See you next week,” she said with a smile as she pushed his chair towards an orderly.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, KT, even if it is torture,” replied Daniel with a tired smile. Things were looking up for the first time since his surgery. No pun intended.
KT took Daniel’s chart back to her desk to add her notes. She reviewed his information again and noted that he was 35, ten years older than she was and single. And far too good looking she thought, even with the cap covering his head and the dark circles under his eyes. Where did he get off making crude comments to her? He probably saw nothing wrong with what he said. That may be his choice of lifestyle but it certainly wasn’t hers. Still, he was very attractive and she admired his determination as he struggled to get through the exercises she’d given him, but he was definitely not her type.
“Hi KT,” said Connie Haskins, one of the other therapists, coming up to her desk. “I see that you’ve been given the Merger Mogul. I’m devastated!” she exclaimed dramatically. “I wouldn’t mind helping him get back on his feet. Or better yet, on his back,” she added with a wicked laugh.” KT ignored that.
“The Merger Mogul?” she asked looking up.
“You don’t know who the Merger Mogul is? Don’t you read the tabloids?”
“Uh, no!” replied KT emphatically.
“Well, your Daniel Tennant is known as the Merger Mogul in the business world. He does mergers and acquisitions and has a lot of money and a lot of women. Apparently he changes women with each season,” she said with relish.
“He’s not my Daniel Tennant” promised KT. “I could introduce you to him next time but if he has as many women as you say, then he’s obviously not into serious relationships.”
“KT not everyone is into serious relationships. Some people just want a temporary merger and if the rumors are true, his reputation as a merger specialist goes beyond his business dealings,” Connie added wickedly.
KT held up her hand. “TMI!” she protested. “More information than I care to know.”
“Just making sure you know who you’re dealing with. I wouldn’t want him to charm you into losing your head and becoming his next merger.”
“There’s no chance of that happening,” declared KT. “Besides he’s not my type and I’m sure I’m not his,” she added.
“You’re a beautiful woman so that makes you his type,” said Connie walking back to her own desk.
‘I’m definitely not interested in him,’ KT told herself. So why did she feel a twinge of disappointment to hear that Daniel was a womanizer? ‘That’s for listening to gossip,’ she told herself. Daniel Tennant was a patient and her job was to get him back on his feet, nothing more. And if she was looking forward to his next therapy session, it was only because she wanted him to get better quickly and off her roster.
Chapter 12
Daniel lay on Margaret’s couch after a hot shower following his therapy session. He was waiting for the tablets he’d just taken to take effect and stop the throbbing in his head.
His thoughts drifted to Kathryn Taylor like a compass point to North. He just couldn’t seem to help himself. Yes, she was beautiful, but so were all the women he dated. Maybe he was thinking about her because she was the first woman to interest him since his surgery. Whatever it was, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
He found her intriguing. A combination of professionalism mixed with a rare innocence that stirred something in him. If he was honest with himself, it was probably the predator’s instinct to sample a new kind of prey. He should halt those thoughts. She was probably too young for him anyway. He figured that she was about twenty-three or four and definitely too innocent for him, which only made her more appealing. He honestly couldn’t think of an innocent woman he’d ever known.
Vanilla. OK, his thoughts were not cooperating. He remembered the scent of her as she helped him back to his wheelchair. It was as if she bathed in it or rubbed her body with vanilla scented lotion. Just the thought of her rubbing her body with lotion was enough to make him stir restlessly on the couch. He would enjoy doing that for her. Not that it was ever likely to happen. Apart from the fact that he was her patient, she seemed kind of prudish so she probably didn’t approve of casual relationships and those were the only kind he was into.
They were obviously chalk and cheese, oil and water, black and white, all the old clichés that indicated they were too different to mesh well, but he wasn’t a merger specialist for nothing; he could find common ground. Maybe he’d invite her out on a date when he finished his therapy sessions. He’d never been out with someone like KT, in more ways than one. She’d probably turn him down. He smiled at the thought of the challenge and fell asleep with the smile on his face.